exactly when she started coming to this place, she forgets.
it didn’t really matter ‘coz her constant date provided her the comfort she exactly needed. the comfort of silence, stillness, and solitude. she doesn’t talk, just sits there even after finishing up her favorite smoked salmon pasta and yam salad. she then sometimes gets her phone and toys with it, or attempts to read a book to try to distract herself from her own thoughts.
but more often than not, she just has this look in her eyes that says she’s down there again, diving into the pit of her mind. she only comes back when another customer snaps her from the trance she’s in. that’s when she smiles and finally acknowledges her date.
when will she ever stop thinking, her date wonders but doesn’t really mind. because even if she looks pathetic sitting quietly, she isn’t. when she’s here, and if anyone tries to look, really look into her eyes, anyone can see that she is contented with her date nights in italy, which is her escape. she just needs a secluded spot with her date – her cup of tea.
